


Deliver Us From Evil

by stupeoscientia



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Priest Ignis, Priest/Demon AU, uhhh I'll add more as I go along
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 10:25:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10242575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupeoscientia/pseuds/stupeoscientia
Summary: Ignis is a 32 year old priest. He's led a life without sin and has always been true to his religion, until one day, he crosses paths with a man with sinister intentions.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is, the AU fic I've always talked about but never got into detail with. I just couldn't keep this idea to myself, so I decided to make something out of it rather than let it go to waste. This is also the first fic I've ever written (and published!) so this is a big step for me. 
> 
> HUGE thanks to my amazing co-writer/editor [Heich](https://twitter.com/HE1Chou) for making this possible for me, without her I don't think I would've been able to do this at all.

The funeral bells began to toll.

 

Once. Twice. Three times. 

 

The third chime startles Ignis and brings the young priest back to attention. He had been lost in reminiscence, thinking back on his life with the man of the hour, Regis. He takes a deep breath to absorb the enormity of it all; the people in black, the somber setting, and the fact that they were all gathered to celebrate the life of someone he cared for very deeply.   

 

_ Ignis, you’ve grown up to be such a fine gentleman. I’m so proud of you. _

 

_ Father...You’re too kind, I have you to thank for the life I now lead. _

 

_ You give me too much credit. _

 

_ \----- _

 

The service ended before he even realized. While everyone had gone outside the cathedral, Ignis had chosen to stay in a little longer to have a moment to himself. 

 

He makes his way over to the coffin where Regis was laid to take one last look at the man who raised him. His old, coarse hands are folded, and a silver cross had been neatly placed between them. He’s clad in traditional black vestments; the ones that he’d kept in a tidy, untouched box in his wardrobe. He recalls asking about it as a child.

 

_ It was a Sunday. _

 

_ A young Ignis had followed Regis to his room next door to his office. The room was small, but cozy, and bathed in sunlight that shone from the single wide window. He didn’t seem to keep much furniture inside, as there was only a bed, nightstand, and a wardrobe that sat in the farthest corner to the left. The priest opened his wardrobe and Ignis had noticed a big, white box in the corner that seemed to stand out. He pointed at it.  _

 

_ “What’s in that box?”  _

 

_ Regis glanced over and let out a sigh followed by a soft chuckle.  _

 

_ “Ah- that, my son, is my last set of clothes.” _

 

_ Ignis tilted his head at his questionable response. _

 

_ “Last set? What does that mean?” _

 

_ His father smiled gently, and placed a hand on his shoulder.  _

 

_ “When the time comes, you will know. But know that for now, I won’t be putting them on any time soon.” _

 

Ignis didn’t realize what Regis meant back then. He’d forgotten about it too, until the box was pulled out of his wardrobe shortly after his passing. He had watched the church officers open it, and inside rested a black vestment which was neatly folded, and a small, silver cross nestled on top.

 

In that moment, as he watched the men carry it away, it struck him. His last set of clothes were indeed the last set he would ever wear.

 

\----

 

Light shone in through the rows of stained glass windows, illuminating the cathedral. The priest remained in front of the open coffin that was placed carefully on the altar, adorned with white and dark crimson roses with a touch of lilac, which were Regis’ favorite flower. Behind him were the vast rows of empty seats that were once filled with people who had come to say farewell. The silence and stillness of everything had Ignis feeling as though time had stopped and life had fled the building, leaving only death to keep him company.

 

Ignis noticed someone else had entered the cathedral but he ultimately chose to pay them no mind. The sound of footsteps grew louder as this other person walked the length of the aisle toward him.

 

“Hey…” The soft voice belongs to Prompto, a friar who was also a good friend of his. "Didn't see you outside. You, uh, doin' alright?" he asks, glancing away sheepishly. “A-Although that’s probably not the most appropriate question for a time like this.” 

 

The priest lets out a soft sigh. “Yes, I'll be fine. I was just reminiscing is all.”

 

There's a silence between them, and Prompto looks over at Ignis, who’s still looking solemnly into the coffin. His eyes are full of sorrow, but he wears a somber smile on his face. He knew what they had meant to each other and couldn't imagine the pain that Ignis was going through at this time.

 

“I understand, you were always closer to him than any of us, really.” He places a hand on the priest's shoulder. “Anyway, I'll leave you with your thoughts. The rest of us are gonna head to the banquet hall, so take all the time you need, buddy.” 

 

Ignis turns to his friend and gives him a small but warm smile. 

 

“Thank you for coming to check up on me. I'll join the others shortly.”

 

Prompto returns a similar grin. 

 

“It's no biggie. I'll see you around, yeah?”

 

Ignis nods, and Prompto makes his way back toward the exit, leaving the priest with his thoughts once again.

 

Not long after, Ignis finds himself suddenly startled by the creaking sound of the church doors opening. He turns to see an unfamiliar man at the door, sporting black, medium-length hair and a beard. He’s also clad in a handsome black suit, and the only thing that appeared to stand out from all the black were his blue eyes which seemed to almost glow in the dim sanctuary light. 

 

“Ah.” He pauses and takes a quick glance around the cathedral, almost as if he’s expecting others. “My apologies, am I disturbing-?” 

 

Ignis quickly regains composure and clears his throat. 

 

“Oh, not at all. Please, do come in.” 

 

As the man stalks toward the coffin, Ignis is able to get a better look. Not once in his life has he ever seen someone so  _ handsome _ , nor has he ever seen him in all his years with Regis.

 

“...Were you a friend of his?” Ignis asks.

 

“Oh, me?” He lets out a dry chuckle. “I guess you could say that. We crossed paths a few times. And you?” 

 

Ignis takes a deep breath before continuing. “Father Regis was like, well, a father to me.” He glances over at Regis with a melancholy smile. “Took me off the streets when I was only a child and treated me like his own, even after losing his own son before me.” “He was a good man. Led a good and holy life. He’s done his best to make me the man I am today.” He stops, realizing that he had rambled more than was suitable about his life. “My apologies for that long-winded speech, everyone else is in the banquet hall if you were wishing to join us.” 

 

The other man straightens himself up. 

 

“No worries, I won’t be staying for long. I only came by to see my old friend one last time…” His voice trails off as his eyes slowly meet with Regis’s content expression, and he scoffs lightly. “I suppose I was too late for this, but goodbye, my old friend.” Ignis’ eyes carefully follow the other man as he places his hand on the edge of the coffin. “You truly were a good man, and I certainly hope I won’t cross paths with you to where I’m going.” 

 

The priest finds the last remark confusing and a little inappropriate for such an occasion. Rather than dwell on it, he shakes it off, catching the man heading towards the exit. 

 

“Wait.” His tone was stern. “I never got your name.”

 

He suddenly stops in his tracks, as if caught off-guard, and puffs his chest slightly before turning around to face him.

 

“It’s Noctis. Noctis Izunia at your humble service,  _ father.  _ We shall meet again.” He bows out, leaving the priest alone with his many thoughts once more.

 

_ There’s something odd about Noctis _ , he thinks. Something very strange that he can’t quite put a finger on.

“...Oh well.” 

**Author's Note:**

> [I'm on twitter!](https://twitter.com/stupeoscientia)


End file.
